Friday, April 07, 2006

medusa*

my lips meditate over the rim of a cup
brimming with hot tea milk and sugar compounds

my solitude is in the voices
leaking through the unfinished ceiling

my heart is deep in his cheek
and my barrier is an invisible telephone line

my medicine is ill itself
with stomach aches and a sore throat

my medusa is winning me over
who will carry me on his back

when i am made of stone





*see sister poem at arch.memory

3 comments:

arch.memory said...

Medusa likes her sister :)
(And I love those last two lines...)

katy said...

do you think the last two lines should go together?

am stumbling over couplets lately.

shukran dear. i need to learn more arabic so we can type messages that no one else (khayyeh aside) will understand.

tosba7 3ala kheir saba7 el-kheir ummi habibi ikhtak shukran ... that's all i know and it doesn't make any sense. how do you say... "you make me happy" in arabic?

B Boutwell said...

Contruction

my lips meditate over the rim
of a cup brimming with hot tea
milk and sugar compounds

my solitude is in the voices
leaking through the unfinished
ceiling

:) I like that and only that.

Sometimes I think you don't know when to stop. I'm being so mean today. Please don't call me and cuss me out. :)